


(the truth is I need) You (to tell me I'm worthy)

by Neffectual



Series: one step forward, two steps back [3]
Category: Professional Wrestling, Progress Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Jealousy, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/pseuds/Neffectual
Summary: Jimmy doesn't begrudge Zack his success, doesn't deny that he deserves it, and doesn't want to take it away... but he still worries that he's being left behind and forgotten.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written to, and titled from, Keaton Henson's 'The Pugilist'.

They’ve always been friends, something that’s always been there in the shoulder-bumping camaraderie, calling each other names over a pint, a swift kick to the ankle to tell each other that they’re being a prick. They’ve always been able to lean on each other, always been able to rely on each other, through thick and thin. They’ve always been mates, best mates, good friends, got along well, and sometimes it feels like such a fucking afterthought, that he’s here, that he does what he does, and – well.

Zack is success, always has been – he’s always been good, always worked as hard as he can, always turned down that last round of drinks for an earlier night and an earlier gym time, always turned down late nights at clubs and bars, the way the women look at him, the way everyone looks at him when he’s in a room. He commands attention with nothing, just his smile and attitude, while Jimmy sometimes feels like a shout in a room that’s so loud he can’t be heard. He feels like the look should draw attention, and yet eyes slide over him without assessing, and slice through him with scorn. When Zack’s in a room, Jimmy feels like he could stand on a table and slit his own throat and people would still look right through him. Maybe that’s where it all started.

When Zack’s in the ring, it’s technical, textbook, piece after piece coming together to make something that’s wholly his own, even though it’s made up of hundreds of others and their expertise. Jimmy’s always relied on blood, always relied on his ability to take punishment, to be hurt and keep on getting up, to never back down in the face of adversity. Zack doesn’t need any of that, doesn’t need any flash, and his gear simply represents their country, as if he’s at the fucking Olympics, like the only identifying characteristic he’s ever needed is just where he’s from, as if that’s all anyone needs to know before they know who he is. Jimmy’s never had that, the confidence, the easy recognition, the ability think believe in himself beyond what he knows he can do. Zack pushes himself all the time, and Jimmy thinks that the only thing he pushes himself to do is more stupid shit.

It’s not that he’s jealous – being jealous would be so much easier, so much gentler and more bearable, because if he was jealous, he could hate Zack, could wish him bad luck, refuse to see him when he’s back in the country, refuse matches with him. He could refuse to work with Zack and never answer his calls if it was as simple as jealousy, but the truth is, he doesn’t begrudge Zack his success, or his popularity overseas, he doesn’t begrudge him making it work for him. He doesn’t wish that Zack didn’t have any of these things, or that he has it instead. No, what he feels is so much worse than mere jealousy, so much more painful than simple hatred.

He loves Zack; most people who know him do, because he’s a good guy, and a top mate, and he’s a decent human being – all things which you’d think wouldn’t endear him to Jimmy, and yet. And yet, there they are; another table, another bar, another round of drinks and a hug as he pays for them. He loves seeing Zack come back with another title belt in his bag, loves to see him in the ring wearing them all at once, loves to see his friend making his way in the world, making his space. He’s not taking Jimmy’s space, not taking room that Jimmy could use, because he isn’t Zack, and that space wouldn’t fit him. It’s not the space he’s worried about – and besides, Zack has a way of making space for those around him, for drawing them in to his inner circle and keeping them there, not as orbiting planets, but as part of the same sun, part of that same light that makes him shine so brightly.

No, the problem is that Jimmy wonders how long it will be until Zack stops coming by, stops asking him to come out for beers, stops wanting to catch up and hear what he’s been doing, stops telling Jimmy about the matches of his that he’s seen. He wonders how long it will be until Zack stops calling, and doesn’t remember to drop him a line every so often, when Jimmy will cease to be important and just vanish into the miasma that is the past. He knows Zack wouldn’t mean to, would never do it intentionally, but sometimes he’s moving forward at such speed that Jimmy feels as though he’s going backwards in comparison, that he’ll never catch up to where Zack is, even if he’s given a million years. And he’s not sure he wants to be there, honestly, he’s just sure he never wants to hear that Zack was back home, and that he’s left again, without stopping by to see Jimmy. It already happens, of course, in short stints, but not often. Jimmy doesn’t want to watch it happen more and more every year, until he sees Zack maybe once a year, then once every few years, and then not at all. And sure, there’s online shit now, and phone calls, and Jimmy could piss Zack off with incessant messages, but – if Zack doesn’t want to see him, doesn’t remember to call, he’s not sure he wants that.

He doesn’t come across as the sort of guy who needs a lot of reassurance, but the arrogance is a clear veneer over everything that tumbles around inside him all the time; the way he aches for people to like what he does, to love him, to see the passion and the effort he puts into his work. He wants people to see him, to look and see more than gore and a tolerance for pain, to see more than a gimmick and a look – and people have, they do, and that makes it all worth it, but he waits with his heart in his throat for the day when Zack will look at him and see nothing but some death match idiot with too much to prove and not enough sense to stop once he hit thirty. That day when Zack will look at him and not see his friend, but see just another guy who hasn’t made it yet. When he’ll stop saying that Jimmy excels at what he does, and that he’s right to be content about where he is, and instead have disdain for all the achievements of which Jimmy is so proud. Zack’s great, he wouldn’t do it on purpose, but… Jimmy still waits for the day.

He wonders if there’s anything so damning as obscurity. Sure, being known gets you spotted and talked about and scrutinised, but in a business where your look is your brand, and your brand is your word of mouth, and your word of mouth is your ability to connect with people, he wonders if obscurity is a greater curse than being despised. For him, the idea of being forgotten is something that haunts every nightmare, every dream he has where Zack looks at him blankly and doesn’t remember who he is, every time he wakes up from images of Zack treating him like just another fan, of looking right through him, of not giving him that wicked little smile and throwing an arm around him. He struggles to admit that he’s scared to death of being forgotten, that he’s terrified of being left behind, and watching Zack take off stratospherically, but that’s what it comes down to, every time. He just wants to feel like he’s worth remembering.

When Zack’s back, Jimmy feels wrapped up in his warmth, feels like the boys are back again, feels like they’re young and stupid and think they’re indestructible, and it’s the best feeling in the world. For a moment, he can forget being so afraid, because here it is, everything just like it was, nothing’s going to change, and they’re still going to mean as much to each to each other in thirty years as they do now. And then he’s gone again, taking all his light with him, and Jimmy sinks back into the dark. He’s made it his, over the years, made himself part of the darkness, carried it with him and made it his own – but still. When he’s with Zack, Jimmy thinks that, maybe, the light might not be so bad.


End file.
